Walking Back
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Tring to give Carson and Mrs Hughes some space, Isobel and Richard use the walk back from the station to talk about things between themselves. Slight 4x02 spoilers but mainly speculation.


Their eyes met as Carson and Mrs Hughes made their way out of the station. For a few moments they simply stood looking at each other, adjusting to the fact that they were suddenly alone together, albeit in an open place. He offered her a rather timid smile and she gave one in reply, smiling broadly, more broadly than she had done in a while, not wanting him to need to feel timid around her.

"I don't suppose it would do us any harm to wait a few moments," she told him, making her way towards him so that they were close enough to speak without raising their voices, "Let them have a headstart up to the house. They probably have a lot to talk about."

"I imagine so," he replied.

Their eyes met for a second and they exchanged a rather knowing smile.

"It was good of you to come and see him off," she told him sincerely, "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson."

"Richard, please," he told her softly, "Call me Richard, won't you? I know we're in public, but still-..."

"Alright," she told him, a little surprised at the sudden softness of his tone, but quite pleased nevertheless, "Only if you'll call me Isobel. I hope it hasn't taken up too much of your morning."

"Not at all," he replied, "I wanted to see him off, and I had a little time. I've all morning as a matter of fact. Would it be too much of an imposition to ask to escort you home?"

"Not at all," she returned, smiling, "It wouldn't impose upon me at all."

"Good," he replied swiftly, and then, with some hesitation as if considering whether or not to say what he had in mind, "I'm glad I came, truth be told. I'm glad because I've seen you looking happier than you have done in a while."

Her smile faded a little at his words and she saw the reaction on his face. She knew her lapse of good humour, however slight, had upset him, as he thought his words had upset him, so she forced herself to smile all the more brightly and say;

"Yes, it's done me good, I think. To do something for others again. Really, I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before. I suppose in a way I was being overly self-involved-..."

"Isobel," he murmured, "I didn't mean anything of the kind!"

"No, I know you didn't," she told him, smiling again, forcing herself to do so, again, "I was only thinking aloud." 

"Even so-... Isobel," his voice was as soft now as she'd ever heard it, and somehow, she did not know how it had happened, his hand was resting on her arm, "I only meant it made me happy to see you happy. I didn't mean anything else."

"I know," she told him, resting her gloved hand lightly on top of his on her arm, "And I'm glad to be able to cheer you up so easily."

"So we're-...alright?" he asked slowly.

"Yes!" she insisted, nearly laughing that he should ask such a question, "Of course we are!"

They stood for a moment. Looking down at her own arm, she saw that she was apparently incapable of letting go of his hand. When she looked up, she made a conscious effort to seem light and casual.

"I think we've probably let them get far enough ahead," she told him, "Shall we walk?"

"By all means," he replied.

"You know, I think it does Carson good to have Mrs. Hughes around to take care of him as she does," Richard remarked once they were out of the station, "I think he'd be rather lost without her."

"Yes," she agreed, "A strong spirit very often needs another one to keep theirs in check. To keep them on the right lines, so to speak. A bit like-..."

"What were you going to say?" he asked when she did not continue, "A bit like who?"

"A bit like you and I," she told him after a moment, unable to quite look at him, "You know," she told him, trying to make herself sound more jocular than she felt, she was unsure if this would be what he wanted to hear, but she had started now, "I rather suspect I'd go too far at times without your help."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he replied.

"I think you do," she told him, "Otherwise you'd ask me to explain myself."

There was a pause.

"It's good to have such a friend, Richard," she told him after a moment.

Their pace had slowed.

"Is it?" he asked her.

"Yes," she nodded sincerely, "I think over there last few months I would have been lost without you too. Thank you."

"I'm sure that's an exaggeration," he replied, looking down at his hands, giving her half a smile.

"I'm sure it's not," she told him, no hint of a smile or lightness in her voice at all.

They stood still for a moment. She knew that he did not know what to say, she would have to be the one to speak.

"I must say, though," she remarked, resuming their pace, "I'm surprised at Mrs Hughes."

"Oh. How so?"

"For not expecting Carson to be the bigger man in the end. I always thought he would."

"Perhaps you can see more clearly than Elsie Hughes in this matter," he remarked, "Not wanting to speak ill of her in any way, you understand."

"Oh, of course, I wouldn't dream of it either," she agreed, "But she's so obviously in love with the man, why wouldn't she think the better of him?"

She sensed she shocked him a little to say it so openly, though they both knew it to be true, and that over the past few days they had shared the same suspicions. At any rate, he seemed to take a deep breath before answering.

"Perhaps, being in love with him, as I suspect she is, she knows that he also has the capacity to do people hurt, while having the best of intentions," he mused, "It can happen, after all. With a strong personality."

It was her turn to be shocked, though she hoped she did not show just how much. They were nearly at the High Street now, but they stopped again. For what felt like long moments she did not know what to say. She looked down at her hands and her black dress and coat.

"Do you mean me?" she asked him, unable to look up and meet his eyes.

There was silence, he did not reply.

She raised her head.

"Do you?" she pressed.

He was looking down too, his head bowed. He nodded gently.

"I did," he admitted quietly.

There was a long pause.

"I didn't know you loved me," she told him simply, when she thought she had regained control of her voice sufficiently.

He looked up at her, his eyes imploring, and she was truly taken aback for the smallest moment by the vividness of their grey-green colour.

"What did you think?" he asked her quietly, "Of course I love you! What did you think when I asked you to marry me? Because you knew what I-..."

"Yes, I did know," she told him truthfully, "I thought you were just asking... for asking's sake, I suppose."

There was another silence.

She looked up at him, tentatively taking hold of his hand as he had done hers.

"I would be lost without you, Richard," she told him quietly, "You're always there, you're always taking care of me from a distance."

He smiled a little.

"I always try to," he admitted, "It's been harder of late."

"Yes," she murmured softly, "I haven't made it easier for you."

"Not you," he insisted firmly, "There's no way you could have helped it."

"Would you like to come for dinner this evening?" she asked him, "I'd like to give you dinner. And say thank you," she met his eyes for a moment, allowing herself to smile, allowing him to see her smiling for a moment before she continued, "And there's something I think I want to ask you."

He obviously caught the look in her eye.

"Isobel-..." he told her warningly.

"Yes, Richard?" she asked, the smile playing on her lips.

He shook his head and said nothing, smiling too.

"Just come for dinner tonight," she told him.

**End.**


End file.
